Thorns of a Rose
by IridiumRing92
Summary: After a cruel turn of events makes Lightning Farron a l'Cie, she realizes she has no one to turn to in her struggles. That is, until she meets a strange man with pink hair just like hers… The two of them are forced to team up and fight against their fates. But who is this man really? And why do he and Lightning seem to have so much in common?
1. Chapter One: Rendezvous with Death

**Hellooooo everyone. IridiumRing92 here. The reason for this fanfic is that I'm currently playing Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy XIII at the same time! What's that? You figured that out? Oooohhh...**

**Anyway, yeah, I realize this is a weird combination,... Let's just say I'm open to suggestions. Go ahead and put a review out there telling me what you think if you are so inclined!...**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter One<span>**

**Rendezvous With Death**

It was one of those mornings on which the mirror betrayed Lightning. She looked at it and then away from it again and again, as though the image would change before her eyes and reveal that she had been imagining things. But the image was the same every time.

She hated waking up to see the l'Cie brand standing out against her pale skin.

At least if she zipped her military jacket up to her throat, no one would be able to see it. Not her sister Serah, not anyone—least of all Lightning herself.

_l'Cie. l'Cie. She was a l'Cie._

Lightning turned away from the mirror, dragging a hand through her pink hair. The chorus that was running through her head on repeat—_l'Cie, l'Cie, l'Cie—_was driving her crazy. She had to focus. She had to go to work.

Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket, and she flipped it out just long enough to check the caller ID. _Serah Farron,_ it read. Lightning slid the phone back into her pocket, ignoring the incessant vibrating. She wasn't going to answer her phone. Not now, maybe not ever. Maybe someday someone would find her, turned to crystal in the middle of nowhere, with a cell phone dropped on the ground beside her. They'd pick up the phone and look at all the missed calls, and then they'd look her in her icy blue eyes and hear her screaming, _Answer it, answer it, because I never did._

Lightning shook away the image and stormed out of the room, going to the door of her apartment. Her boots sat right in front of the entrance, and she swiped them from the floor, shoving them onto her feet almost violently. Her cell phone had finally stopped vibrating, but that didn't lighten Lightning's mood at all. She knew it would probably start up again in a minute or two.

She just had to get to work, and then she'd be able to pass off not answering her sister's calls. She'd have a valid excuse, which she definitely needed. If her sister found out she wasn't answering just for the sake of _not_ _answering_—she'd know something was wrong.

On the street below, she hailed a taxi, shoving other people aside despite their shouts back at her. She slid into the car, handing the driver her money and telling him the address of the place she wanted to go. She was still with the Guardian Corps—had to report to Lieutenant Amodar. Being late wasn't going to help her case.

Her phone went off again during the drive, but this time it only vibrated once. Lightning looked at it to find that there was only a voice mail from her sister Serah this time. This time she flipped open the phone and held it to her ear. Her sister's voice came through the speakers.

"Hey, Lightning… It's me. I, um, just called to ask how you were doing. I haven't heard from you in a while. I hope you're okay. Anyway, um… I'll see you soon. Bye." The voice mail ended.

Lightning snapped the phone shut and rolled her eyes. Either her sister had ulterior motives for calling her, or she knew something was going on with Lightning already.

Her seemingly sweet, innocent younger sister sometimes frustrated her to no end.

The taxi driver stopped and called back to Lightning to tell her they had arrived. She thanked him, if a little offhandedly, and stepped out onto the pavement, listening to the rush of air as the taxi sped away. The gate to her building wasn't too far off.

But as she approached it, she noticed that a shadow had formed in the sky. People were glancing up, pointing into the sky, some screaming and running. Lightning slowly raised her head so that she could see what was going on. Her jaw dropped when she saw what it was.

There was a huge fal'Cie flying through the sky, spinning and diving with the wind. It moved swiftly through the air and then crashed straight into the building Lightning had been heading toward, sending debris flying everywhere. Someone in the crowd screamed.

The fal'Cie turned around 180 degrees and smashed into the building again, taking out a chunk of the ceiling. Almost immediately after, the military's defense system activated, sending out mechs toward the gate. A flying mech with a tail flew right over the gate, directly under and past the fal'Cie, and started aiming at the crowd. Lightning glanced between it and the people in the crowd, who were running in all directions. She realized she was about the only person standing still. She had to do something.

Lightning drew her gunblade, pointing it at the warmech. She was loath to destroy technology that was useful to the military, but, she thought, if they knew the truth about her and the l'Cie brand on her chest, they would consider her an enemy anyway. The mech's stare—if you could call it that—turned toward her, and she was forced to jump out of the way as it shot a beam of light across the ground.

She rolled to her feet and ran straight for the mech. As soon as she was close enough she started slashing at it with her gunblade, trying to do all the damage she could to stop it from attacking the crowd ahead of her. Sirens blared all around her, probably alerting the military personnel on the inside of the building of what was going on outside.

Guards dashed up to the gate, shouting at people to calm down. She heard one of them shout her name and looked up. That was when her opponent reached out a hand made of metal and swatted her away. Lightning landed on her back at least a hundred feet from where she had stood, the wind knocked out of her. She barely heard her gunblade skittering away on the pavement in the distance.

As she was pushing herself up and the machine was advancing on her, she heard someone shout from her other side. She glanced one way and saw a figure running at the mech, holding what looked like a giant scythe. He was wearing an all-black outfit: a black hoodie, tight black pants, and black boots. He looked kind of like an assassin.

And he had pink hair.

"Get back!" he shouted at the machine, flying at it with his giant scythe. He managed to slice one of its metal claws clean off. The appendage clattered to the pavement, sparks still shooting from the severed electrical cables inside.

"Sir!" the military guards were screaming as one of them scrambled to open the gate. "Please calm down! Sir! What are you doing?!"

Lightning took the opportunity to push herself up from the ground and go after her weapon. But no sooner had she moved than the mech's sights swiveled to her again and it started to aim. She dived into a somersault, reclaimed her weapon, and dodged the machine's fire, taking her place next to the pink-haired man. They looked at each other and nodded before taking on a dual assault strategy. Each of them took a side and started to launch their attacks.

Two things happened at once.

The gate opened behind the military warmech, and soldiers swarmed out, surrounding the area—the bystanders cowering in corners, the machine, the two fighters, everything.

And the machine exploded.

Lightning and the assassin both launched an attack on the thing's heart, and it collapsed, its mechanical parts catching fire and then blowing up and out with a force enough to knock most of the soldiers, including Lightning, off their feet. When the noise and the force had subsided, the air was full of smoke and the area around them was full of debris. Coughing, Lightning stood up and glanced around. The man in black did the same. When he saw her, he held out his hand.

"Pleased to meet you," he said with a sardonic grin. "Your name?"

She eyed his hand suspiciously, as if it was a ticking time bomb. "Lightning." Still she seemed to decide that he was at least somewhat trustworthy, because she reached out and shook his outstretched hand once. "And you are?"

The guards around them were standing up and aiming their guns at the two fighters, shouting things about how they were under arrest for attacking military property. A shadow passed over them as the fal'Cie flew overhead again. The pink-haired man cast a passing glance at all of this before he looked back at her.

And then he said simply, "Marluxia."


	2. Chapter Two: The Graceful Assassin

**Yo everybody... It's me IridiumRing92. I'm back. R&R if you wish :3  
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><p><span><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

**The Graceful Assassin**

There was a moment of stillness. The only sound was that of rush of wind as the fal'Cie flew spastically overhead. The bodies of soldiers were strewn everywhere, creating a circle around the two dissidents, but they didn't stir.

"Both of you! Put your hands up!" a voice shouted from off in the distance.

Lightning and Marluxia turned in the opposite direction of the gate and saw that another squad of soldiers was running toward them, their guns trained on the pair. "You're under arrest!" the one in the front screamed.

"Time to go," Marluxia said smoothly. He grabbed Lightning's arm and dragged her away, pulling her toward the edge of the circle and out of the line of fire.

"Wait!" Lightning objected, but he was already running, moving across the street where the taxi had dropped her off just minutes ago. "You can't just—"

He ran on, keeping Lightning in tow, weaving through streets and checking over his shoulder every so often to see whether the soldiers were still pursuing them. Every few steps Lightning could hear their voices behind her, shouting about submitting or they'd shoot. Finally her pink-haired captor rounded a corner and stopped to catch his breath.

"That should do it," he remarked. "Glad we got out of there in time."

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Lightning snapped as soon as she had the breath. "Do you blow up military weapons and run away for _fun_?!"

"Not for fun," Marluxia answered. "But I do it."

As Lightning trained her gaze on him, seething, he laced his fingers together behind his head and spun around so that he was facing away from her. "Ahh, glad we got out of there. We seem to have escaped the worst of it."

"Do you know what you're saying?" Lightning demanded. "Look at me. Do I look like a convict? Do I look like a _delinquent_? I don't know who you think you are, but I am a member of the Guardian Corps, and your little stunt is sure as hell not going to get me any prestige points with my commander."

Marluxia swiveled to face her again. "Guardian Corps… The military, is it? Why did you join in the fight, then?"

"I wanted to make sure that thing didn't harm any innocent civilians," Lightning muttered, staring at the ground. Her hand went to her chest, covering the spot where she knew her l'Cie brand still marred her skin.

"Is that so?" His blue eyes seemed to be burning a hole into her. "You thought they'd consider you an enemy either way too, didn't you?"

"What?" Lightning exclaimed. But he was already turning away again, a sarcastic smirk playing on his pale lips.

"Hmm… Are you going home? I need a place to crash," Marluxia said casually.

Lightning was about to snap at him again, but just then she came to a realization: Her apartment was the only place she had to go. She couldn't return to the military and Amodar, not when she had the l'Cie brand and the mech incident on her record. There was no way around it. If she went back, they would end her no matter what she said.

"Why don't you have anywhere to go?" Lightning growled.

"Well, I can't tell you that." Marluxia stared back at her levelly. "But I will say that my work makes it complicated."

"I suppose," she muttered. "As long as you promise to behave yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He grinned back at her. "Lead the way."

Thanks to the little race they had run with the soldiers, they were now close enough that they could walk to Lightning's apartment with little trouble. Lightning stayed at least a few steps ahead of Marluxia, resolving not to say a word to him until they got there. But even that didn't deter him. He was with her right up until they reached her front door.

The pink-haired man walked right through the door and into her living room before she could even take the key back out of the lock. "Mind if I take a rest?" he asked.

"Not before I get some answers," Lightning replied coldly. She wrenched the key out of the door and stalked after him into the living room. "Why were you at the military base this morning? And why did you attack that machine?" she demanded.

"Hmm, so you're not the type to make tea and entertain visitors," Marluxia observed, sprawling out across the futon next to the window. "To answer your question, that is classified information. My boss does not allow anyone to disclose things related to work."

"So you think," Lightning began to recapitulate, pointing a finger at him, "that I'm going to let you stay in my apartment, after I just saw you run away from a military patrol, while you harass me about how I'm not allowed to know anything else about you."

"That's not how it is," Marluxia protested.

"That's how you're making it." Lightning glared at him.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know as long as it's not related to my work," he answered.

Lightning shook her head and turned away. She knew he didn't mean that literally, but she wasn't in the mood for games.

"I'm not kidding. Ask away," Marluxia called as she stormed into the kitchen.

Lightning spent the afternoon avoiding her own living room as Marluxia proceeded to sleep there. She wondered why she was letting him stay in her apartment, giving him some sort of safe haven, after he'd driven them both out of the military base area and Lightning out of her own work. She figured she'd let him get off too easy this time; she was letting him take advantage, and decided she wouldn't tomorrow.

In the meantime she took her phone out of her pocket and set it on the counter in the kitchen while she made some coffee. She flipped the TV on and saw that in the latest news, a fal'Cie had broken into military property and severely damaged the buildings. The report mentioned that the whole facility was now on lockdown, but it didn't say anything about her and Marluxia attacking the machine at the gates.

Whether her phone rang while she was preoccupied, she didn't notice. And so she hardly expected the door to burst open and a familiar voice to break the silence.

"Lightning?"

Lightning rushed through the living room to the front door and found her sister standing there. "Serah?" she asked. "How did you get in?"

"I know where you keep your extra key," Serah said, but she didn't smile. "Who's that?"

She was looking over Lightning's shoulder at the sleeping figure on the futon in the living room, probably getting all the wrong ideas already. "Serah, look, some weird things happened this morning at work, and—"

"That's not an answer." Serah was on the verge of using her teacher voice, something Lightning wanted to avoid at all costs. "Are you involved with him? What haven't you told me, Lightning?"

_Oh, God._ Lightning rubbed her forehead, exasperated. "Serah, it's a long story," she said. "It all happened just this morning. Come in."

Her sister stormed through the entryway and walked straight into the kitchen, throwing herself down in one of the chairs. Lightning followed her and picked up her cup of coffee. She was in no mood to play hostess, especially with her sister and Marluxia there, but she handed Serah another mug anyway.

"Thank you," her sister said. She said nothing more—only looked pointedly at Lightning.

"I went to work this morning, or at least I tried," Lightning said. "I don't know if you've seen the news since then, but there was a fal'Cie that showed up there and started running into things. The whole place went on red alert, and I was at the gates."

Serah's expression was transformed in a matter of seconds. "A fal'Cie?!" she gasped, nearly spilling her coffee. "You weren't hurt, were you?"

"No, but it's mostly thanks to _him_." Lightning tilted her head toward the living room, where Marluxia was still passed out. "They sent out this huge military warmech and started firing on civilians, and then he showed up out of nowhere and started fighting it. When the fight was over, he just dragged me out of there and then asked if he could stay here. I haven't gone back since. The news says the place is in lockdown." Lightning shook her head.

"You're letting him stay in your apartment?" Serah asked, dropping her voice. "A complete stranger? Do you even know his name?"

"I had no other choice, Serah," Lightning said. "And I know his name. It's Marluxia. I'll tell him he has to leave tomorrow."

"This isn't like you, sis," Serah said, standing up. "Tell you what. I'll come stay with you for a few days. It doesn't seem… like a good idea to be alone with him in your apartment all the time."

"I'll be fine, Serah. I promise." Lightning crossed her arms. "After all, I have weapons, if I need them."

Her sister's smile looked pained. "Lightning…" she said simply, gazing at her sister.

Lightning sighed and averted her eyes. She wished she could tell Serah what had really started all this—the fact that she'd become a l'Cie. But she couldn't tell anyone that. She could barely admit it to herself.

_l'Cie, l'Cie, l'Cie._

"I'm going to come and check up on you every so often," Serah decided. There was a note in her voice that told Lightning she couldn't argue. "That's what sisters do, right?"

"I guess it is," Lightning sighed. "But I'm fine, Serah. I promise."

"Do you?" Serah asked hopefully. She opened her mouth to say something else, but then pursed her lips instead.

"What?" Lightning asked. Then she turned in the direction that Serah was looking and saw that Marluxia was sitting upright on the futon in the living room, his chin balanced on his fist. He was looking right at them with a knowing smirk on his lips as he stood up and walked into the kitchen.

"How long have you been—?!" Lightning demanded, but Marluxia strode right past her. He extended his hand to Serah.

"Are you related to Lightning?" he asked. "Nice to meet you."

"Um, you too," Serah said, shaking Marluxia's hand delicately. "Did we… wake you up?"

"No. In fact, I didn't hear you come in," Marluxia said with a smile that told Lightning it was a total lie. He must have heard everything they'd said about him.

"Well, I—" Serah began just before her phone started to go off in her pocket. She glanced down, embarrassed, and pulled it out. "Oh. I'm sorry, you two—I have to take this. It's Snow," she added to Lightning.

"Right," Lightning answered in a tone that said more, _Whatever._

As soon as her sister had left the room, Lightning turned her back on Marluxia, crossing her arms. She wanted to blame him for starting this weird tension between her and Serah, but in the back of her mind she knew that wasn't really the case. Was it a coincidence, the fact that that flying fal'Cie had showed up at the military base just days after she had encountered a different fal'Cie, and found that brand on her skin?

Serah seemed to sense something, but she didn't seem to understand what exactly was going on. She had called Lightning that morning asking her if she was okay, and now here she stood, trying to convince her sister that it was okay for her to come and stay in her apartment for a few days.

"Your sister looks a lot like you," Marluxia commented to Lightning's back. Lightning didn't reply. He added, "Her hair is the same color."

Lightning shot him a look over her shoulder. "Speak for yourself," she finally muttered. Then, "What did you do with your weapon, anyway?"

"It is merely out of my hands at the moment," Marluxia answered. "I will call it back if necessary, but not here."

"Look—" Lightning began, but Serah returned from the next room then, snapping her cell phone shut in her hand and forcing Lightning to cut her sentence short. She slid her phone back in her pocket and addressed her sister and the pink-haired man.

"I just got a call. I have to go now," she apologized, "I'm sorry."

"That's no problem," Marluxia said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'll—I'll be back tomorrow," Serah stammered, her eyes flickering back and forth between Marluxia and her older sister. "See you later, Lightning."

"See you," Lightning muttered under her breath. She watched her sister dash back toward the door, at the same time glad Serah wouldn't be around to pester her anymore and ill at ease around the now-conscious Marluxia. After the door had slammed shut, she shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"If only I could go back to work," she muttered.


	3. Chapter Three: Breaking and Entering

**Hello everyone! Thanks for the reviews and stuff, and sorry it took me so long to get this next update out. I'm swamped with schoolwork and updating other stories. Sigh. **

**Anyway, things get a little bit interesting (awkward?) for Lightning in this chapter... And we find out some things about the other l'Cie. Hope you enjoy :3**

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><p><span><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

**Breaking and Entering**

Marluxia was facing the living room, looking like he was thinking thoughts Lightning didn't want to know about. He was tapping his fingers lightly against his chin every so often as he stared in the direction of the room's small window. Lightning almost considered it a relief when he turned and faced her.

Until he asked, "Do you mind if I use your shower?"

"What the hell—?" Lightning began, taking a step backward. "My… _shower_?" she repeated, incredulously.

"Well, if you weren't aware, personal hygiene is an important—" he began, but not before she shook her head, cutting him off.

"That's not what I meant!" she growled. "Fine. Forget it. It's down that hallway." Lightning pointed her thumb in the opposite direction of the living room, down the short hallway that led past her bathroom and bedroom. Marluxia shouldered past her, clearing the kitchen floor in just a few long strides.

"Thank you," he said dismissively as he disappeared into the hall.

The bathroom door slammed, and Lightning let loose a few curses under her breath. She reminded herself of her promise to tell him his time was up tomorrow.

The sun had already begun to set outside. Lightning realized she had spent a whole day in her apartment with her sister and a guy who had practically broken into the residence. A guy who also had pink hair.

She was on her way out of the kitchen when her cell phone began to vibrate in her pocket again. Looking at the caller ID, she saw it was Lieutenant Amodar. But by the time she had decided she should answer it, she only heard a dial tone on the other end.

There was a voice mail, though. Lightning opened it up and held the phone to her ear.

"Hey, Sergeant Farron, this is Lieutenant Amodar calling. There's some important business I need to discuss with you. I need you at the base tomorrow at your usual time, in the head office. Don't be late. Thank you."

The phone nearly fell from Lightning's hand; she had loosened her grip on it so much it dangled precariously from her fingertips. She knew there was only one reason Amodar would want her in Dysley's office.

The incident from this morning was reason enough.

She slumped into one of the kitchen chairs, letting her phone drop to the table in front of her. For a few minutes she sat motionless, staring out the porthole-sized kitchen window and watching the light disappear from the sky. There was no way she could go back to the base. Especially if it meant facing Dysley and Amodar.

Finally Lightning pushed the chair back forcefully, and then, feeling as though she had exhausted all of her energy in that movement, she stood up and crossed into the next hallway, heading for her bedroom.

And that was when she nearly ran head-on into Marluxia.

"Oh. I apologize." The pink-haired man's apology was thin, nearly invalidated by the smirk on his face, and he didn't wait for an answer. He strode down the hall past Lightning, who had practically flattened herself against the wall.

He was still wet from being in the shower, his pink hair darkened with moisture. But perhaps more startling to Lightning was the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

The last thing she had expected was for him to show up in the hallway half-naked, but everything he'd done had made Lightning vaguely uncomfortable already, after all. As soon as he had gone, however, Lightning rolled her eyes and pushed the image out of her mind. She continued down the hall to her room.

Reaching the door, though, she realized that if he was about to stay the night in her apartment, she had to set a baseline. She wasn't going to let him do whatever he wanted, especially when she was asleep, or trying to be. Lightning spun on her heel and walked back out into the living room, preparing for a confrontation.

Marluxia was halfway across the room, his black sweatshirt draped over the futon by the window. He turned around when she entered and greeted her, "Lightning."

"Marluxia," she declared, "I have two conditions if you're going to stay here. Got it?"

His mouth slid into a smirk. "Conditions, hmm?"

"Either you stay in this room until I get up in the morning, or you get your ass out of here right now."

"Oh," Marluxia answered, running a hand through his hair. The motion made the muscles along his arm stand out. "Harsh, isn't that?"

"Not at all," Lightning said smoothly. "You're lucky I even let you stay here in the first place." As she spoke, she wondered why she was letting him stay here in the first place, anyway.

"If you insist," Marluxia said. He lowered himself onto the futon. "I guess that means you'd better stay on your side of the apartment, as well."

"I guess it does." Lightning looked at him for a second longer before she turned around and stalked off.

_I'm not going to let him take advantage of me more than once,_ she thought.

"Good night," Marluxia called out to her as she disappeared.

She thought she could hear a sarcastic note ring in his voice, and ignored him, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

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><p>The next morning, Lightning's alarm went off while it was still dark. She got out of bed, still feeling like she was asleep, and dressed, putting on her military uniform. Lieutenant Amodar's phone call was on replay in her head as she did so, reminding her that she was probably going to face her doom as soon as she set foot in Dysley's office.<p>

She decided against making herself any more coffee. Instead, Lightning made up her mind to go to a café a ways down the street before she took a taxi to work. But as she was standing in the kitchen, she glanced over and saw Marluxia still asleep in her living room, once again fully clothed and wearing his black sweatshirt. He had his legs crossed at the ankles, and one of his arms was draped over his forehead, the other resting across his torso. Lightning couldn't bring herself to go into the room to wake him up. It would cost her too much time, she reasoned. She'd kick him out when she got back.

_If_ she got back.

Still, she couldn't just leave him to his own devices, she decided. She returned to the kitchen and pulled a piece of crumpled notebook paper and a pencil out of her junk drawer. Then she flattened it out on the table, scrawling a message on it hastily.

_Gone at work. I'll be back later today—don't go anywhere. Lightning._

Lightning left her note on the table in the kitchen and went back to the entryway of her apartment. She was easing the door shut in an attempt to make as little noise as possible when she realized that she must have been unconsciously trying not to wake Marluxia. She resisted the urge to kick the door, spun around, and stormed off.

At the café down the street a few minutes later, Lightning was directing her blank stare into her cup of coffee when a tall, dark-haired figure materialized next to her and clapped her on the shoulder. "Hey, Sunshine," a heavily accented voice called out. "I didn't figure you'd be one to hang out at cafés. What's up?"

"Oh. Fang," Lightning muttered, looking up at the woman. She felt like she barely recognized Fang, even though some part of her was aware her old friend probably looked the same as when they'd last seen each other. "I'm on my way to work. I thought I'd stop by here." _And avoid the trespasser who's hiding in my apartment right now_, she wanted to add.

"Work? Ohh, right. The Guardian Corps stuff," Fang said. "You mind if I sit down?"

"Sure. Go ahead." Lightning gestured to the chair across from her with a shrug. _It'll be good to catch up for just a few minutes, _she reasoned.

"So how are you, Lightning?" Fang asked. "Holding up?"

Lightning almost smiled. "You're going to give me the entire third degree, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Fang asserted with a grin. "You're due for it, after all."

"Well, I guess I've been better," Lightning answered, shrugging. "You?"

"I'm not so bad myself," Fang answered. She took a sip of the drink that was in front of her. Lightning guessed that whatever it was, it was probably full of alcohol. "But I gotta ask, Light. Do you have a man yet, or is that my wishful thinking?"

"What?! No!" Lightning burst out. "I told you, I don't date—"

"Wait, let me guess. Is it…" Fang studied Lightning for a moment. "Is it a girl instead?"

"Dear God, Fang." Lightning dropped her head into her hands.

"So? Is it?" Fang asked, tapping her fingernails on the table in front of her.

"No." Lightning raised her head to finish the last of her coffee. "Work makes it hard to see anyone. I just… _don't_."

"Oh, I see how it is." Fang smiled devilishly, but her silence told Lightning that she had given up. Finally she said, "What about your sister? How's she doing?"

"I think she's okay," Lightning said. "She came over to my apartment yesterday, but that was the first I'd seen of her in a long time. She's always with Snow now."

"Right, right," Fang agreed. "Her boyfriend… Jealous, Light?"

"I don't think so," Lightning laughed. "She still comes to check up on me way too much."

Then she stood up from the table. "I'd love to keep this conversation going… but I'm due at work in a few minutes. I'll talk to you later, okay, Fang?"

"Yeah, talk to you later," Fang answered. "Have fun at work."

Lightning rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right," she said. "But thanks anyway."

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><p>Fifteen minutes later, she stood before the doors of Primarch Dysley's office in the headquarters of the military base where she worked. The doors were probably one of the only things in the entire building made out of wood at all, and they stood at least twice as tall as Lightning, maybe three times. After she had stood in her share of silence outside the office, the doors swung open, revealing two soldiers standing on either side of the entrance, and two men standing further away.<p>

One of those men was the Primarch himself, adorned with his characteristic outfit of robes. The other man was Lieutenant Amodar, who wore a military uniform. His arms were crossed over his chest, his expression set and stony.

"Lightning Farron," Primarch Dysley began. "Welcome back. Before we begin, I would like to show you something that might interest you."

And then he picked up a remote lying on the desk in front of him and pressed a button. Behind him, a massive screen showed scenes taped from security cameras, the images colorless and blurry. But it wasn't hard to see what was happening.

Machines swooped over the gates of the military base, firing at the civilians gathered before it. The largest one stayed hovering in the air as Lightning herself charged toward it. And at that moment, a figure clothed in black raced out onto the screen, waving a scythe around. He and Lightning joined up and raced toward the military mech, damaging it until it exploded. The screen went black for a few seconds, and Lightning thought the video was over, but then the picture filtered back in to show Marluxia running off the screen, dragging Lightning after him.

"Explain yourself," Dysley commanded, cutting the stream of video.

"I was trying to keep that machine from attacking civilians," Lightning said. "I have no association with _him_ whatsoever." She gestured with a hand to Marluxia's image on the projector.

"Is that so…?" Dysley frowned at her and then turned to face the screen. "I am not certain I believe you, Sergeant Farron."

Lightning closed her eyes. "I don't know how I can possibly prove it to you… but I don't know him."

"Farron, where is he now?" Lieutenant Amodar asked. "Where did he take you?"

Suddenly Lightning's throat tightened. She felt like she couldn't swallow. She didn't want to lie to protect Marluxia—she didn't care what happened to him—but she realized just how bad it would look if she told them he was staying at her apartment. "He ran off into the streets and took me with him, until I demanded that he let me go. I told him I didn't want anything to do with him," she managed to say. "The last I saw of him was by that café several blocks from here."

"That may prove useful," Dysley muttered, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the large screen, "but that is not to say he couldn't be anywhere else in the city at this moment. He could have fled the city already. We will need search teams sent out to track him down."

"Excuse me for interrupting, Your Eminence," Amodar began, "but who're we talking about, exactly? The hit list is a little long for me to have it all memorized."

"That man is Marluxia," Dysley spat. "He has shown up in the news and surrounding cities, calling himself Number Eleven of a group of l'Cie labeled 'the Organization'."

"A group of l'Cie?" Lightning demanded.

"That is classified information," Dysley said. "Not everyone is allowed to hear the intelligence we have on _the Organization._"

Lightning felt ill. She'd had no idea Marluxia was a l'Cie, let alone that he was in a l'Cie _cult_. He was just like her, only worse—and he was hiding out in her apartment. She needed to get the hell out of this office.

"That's right, but they have been on the news several times," Amodar said. "Surely we could tell Sergeant Farron that much?"

"Very well," Dysley conceded. "Go ahead, Lieutenant."

"There's a powerful rebel group of l'Cie out there," Amodar told her. "They identify as 'the Organization'. They've been the subject of headlines for several weeks now, because although the military tries to keep their existence quiet, the media doesn't hesitate to exploit them. There were apparently thirteen of them, but rumor has it some of them are dead, Cie'th, or completed their Focus. No one's really sure. They're never all in one place. But they all wear black, and they're wanted for terrorist activities in the city."

"Terrorist activities?" Lightning repeated. She was still reeling from the blow of the information. _Marluxia's work,_ she thought. _He said he wouldn't talk about it—he said his boss forbid him to._

What the hell kind of fool was she? Was she really dumb enough to leave a l'Cie, a _terrorist_, in her apartment alone?

And hadn't her sister said she was going to visit her today?

"Things like blowing up military vehicles," Amodar clarified. "That's why we called you here, Lightning. We wanted to make sure you weren't in any way involved with the Organization."

"But it appears we still have some investigating to do," Dysley muttered from behind him. "You both are dismissed. Sergeant Farron, you are not to return to work today."

"Right," Lightning muttered.

She turned and walked out the door without another word, but as soon as she was out in the hall, Amodar caught up with her.

"Lightning," he said. "Something going on? You don't seem like yourself."

Lightning sighed. "I just didn't want to get caught up in all this," she said, which wasn't the truth, but it wasn't a lie either. She was really thinking about how she had to get back to her apartment as soon as possible.

"I understand, but you have to know, we can't just trust everyone. If we did, well…" He shrugged. "We'll call you back tomorrow. Dysley just wants to make sure you're not a terrorist, you know?"

Lightning forced a smile. "Yeah." She looked away. "I'll see you all tomorrow, then."

"All right, till tomorrow." Amodar offered a salute, and Lightning shot one back. After that they parted ways.

As soon as she was sure he was gone, Lightning took off at a run for the door.


	4. Chapter Four: Running with Scissors

**Hey guys! Wow, it's been a while. I've had some time on my hands for once lately, so I decided to post the next chapter of this. I realized that there are somewhere around 6 favorites and 8 follows for this story. I guess they happened when I wasn't looking, 'cause I didn't know there were that many! Haha. X3 **

**Anyway, thank you to those of you who have so patiently supported me by putting those favorites and follows out there! I'm sorry I'm so inconsistent about updating. Promise I'll work harder! :D**

**Okay, well, I'm guessing you didn't come here to read my commentary, so on with the story. Chapter Four, here we come.**

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><p><span><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

**Running with Scissors**

When Lightning got to the door of her apartment, she realized that the atmosphere was eerily silent. She slid the key into the lock with careful hands and opened the door slowly enough that it squeaked. The clock on the wall in the entryway peeked out from behind the half-open door, and Lightning saw that it was around eight-thirty. She wondered if Marluxia was even awake yet, or if Serah had bothered to show up, and immediately doubted the probability of either of those things.

But when she stepped into her apartment, she saw that there was no one in the living room. Marluxia had been there just last night, but now no trace of him was left. Lightning tugged off her boots, setting them down in front of the door, and went into the kitchen.

And there was her intruder, sitting backwards on a chair in front of the table. Thankfully, he was fully clothed. But Lightning quickly saw the problem, and the reason why her apartment had felt so quiet. He was _asleep—_out cold and slumped over the chair he was sitting in. Just out of his reach was an empty cup.

As Lightning strode toward him, Marluxia jolted awake, his blue eyes flickering to hers. He rubbed his face with a hand. "You're back already?" he asked.

Lightning glanced at the table and saw that her note was still lying there, scrawled out in hasty scratches. So he _had_ read it. "They told me I had the day off work. Why are you still here?"

"Ouch," Marluxia muttered. Nevertheless, a smirk crept across his face. "You're going to ask me to leave, aren't you?"

"Yes," Lightning answered, deadpan. "How'd you guess?" she added, a little more mocking, putting one hand on her hip.

"Oh, it wasn't hard. The ambitious, secret-keeping Guardian Corps soldier and her innocent little sister, coming into contact with a member of the Organization—it just doesn't look right, now does it?" He stood up so that the two of them could see eye to eye, the smirk on his lips widening.

Lightning frowned at him. "How did you know I know about—?"

"I have ways."

Lightning clenched her fists at her sides. "So where's your l'Cie brand?" she demanded.

"Oh, you want to know about that?" Marluxia grinned. "Well, since you asked." He turned sideways and pulled up the hem of his shirt, revealing that the brand was impressed into his lower back, on the right side.

Lightning grimaced. "Okay, I shouldn't have…" she muttered.

"Yes, you should have." Marluxia let his shirt fall back into place and turned to face her again. "In fact, while we're on that subject… I think we have more in common than you might be willing to admit."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lightning snapped.

"It means you can't hide from me." Marluxia took a step closer. "I'm a l'Cie too."

"What—?" Lightning gasped.

He reached out and gripped the collar of her jacket forcefully in his hand, jerking it away enough to reveal the l'Cie brand on her chest. She wanted to grab his hand, or push him away—_anything_—but instead, she froze.

And the front door opened.

Lightning realized they were standing right in front of the entrance to the kitchen, which was very visible from the front door, and that she knew only one other person would have found her spare key.

"Lightning!" Serah exclaimed. "What is going on?!"

Lightning jerked away from Marluxia, zipping her jacket back up so her sister wouldn't see the brand. "Serah, it's not what it looks like," she exclaimed, stumbling backward.

"I thought you told me you weren't with him," Serah accused.

"I'm not," Lightning spat. "I was asking him to _leave_."

"Then what were you just doing?" Serah shouted, clearly confused and concerned and angry all at the same time. "It looked to me like you were asking him to undress."

"What the _hell_—no, Serah, that isn't it at all!" Lightning yelled back. "How many times do I have to tell you—"

She broke off with a gasp as Marluxia stepped closer and gripped her forearm with one of his strong hands. "I think you both should calm down," he said quietly.

Lightning wanted to shout at him, to tell him this had nothing to do with him, but that would have been a lie. He was the reason Serah was here. He was the reason Lightning was uncharacteristically angry at her sister.

Serah sighed. "Lightning, are you okay?" she asked carefully.

"No," Lightning muttered. "No, I'm not. And that's why I need to talk to you. Alone."

"Alone? Did I hear that right?" Marluxia asked. "Does that mean I—?"

"It means get out of here, Marluxia," Lightning spat. "You've caused me enough trouble."

"Oh, is that how it is? Hold on just a minute," Marluxia countered, smiling. "I'm sorry… Serah, is it? I get Lightning first."

He steered her out of the room by an elbow.

"What is your problem?" Lightning hissed, but he grabbed her arm, and the next thing she knew he had taken a black pen to it and was writing something on her skin.

"There," he said when he had finished. She let her arm drop, not bothering to look at whatever it was he had written. "Don't forget, got it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped.

"I'll see you soon, Lightning." Marluxia spun around and walked out. Seconds later the front door slammed.

Lightning went to find her sister and spotted her in the entryway of the apartment. Approaching her, she said, "Serah, I'm sorry about this."

Her sister had her hands clasped at her chest, her eyes trained on the floor. "Can I ask you something?" she whispered.

"What?" Lightning asked.

"Do you love him?" Serah said, her voice so quiet Lightning had to strain to hear it.

But when she figured out what her sister had said, she took a step back. "No!" Lightning exclaimed. "He's a stranger."

"Then why was he in your apartment?" Serah asked.

"Because…" Lightning squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't know, Serah. I don't know."

They were both silent for a few moments, at least until Lightning remembered that she had to tell her sister the news. "Serah, I have to tell you something," she breathed.

"What is it?" Serah asked, her eyes wide with worry.

"I… I was in contact with a fal'Cie the other day." Suddenly she couldn't meet her sister's eyes. "Serah, I—I'm…"

She unzipped her jacket, just as Marluxia had done, and pushed the collar aside to reveal the l'Cie brand standing out like black ink on her skin.

"A l'Cie," Serah whispered, her voice catching. "You're a l'Cie?"

The two sisters stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. Lightning felt like someone had stabbed her in the chest with a thousand icy knives, and she had to lay the collar of her jacket back in place. Serah's voice finally penetrated the heavy quiet of the apartment. "No, Lightning. You can't be… You're… This can't happen."

Lightning kept her eyes trained on the floor. "I know."

"No…!" Serah cried. She covered her face with her hands in an attempt to hide her expression from Lightning, but it didn't work. Lightning could still see the panic in her face, the tears forming in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Lightning," she choked out. "But I have to go."

"Serah," Lightning began. Her sister spun around and stumbled toward the door. "Serah, wait!"

Her younger sister didn't stop. She kept running, wiping her tears with the back of her hand just before she slammed the front door shut. For the first time in a long time, Lightning was alone in her apartment.

She crossed the entryway and went to the living room, where she turned on the TV. She flipped through channels until she found the news, and she put aside the remote and sat down on the edge of the futon to watch.

The anchor had just finished reporting a story, something about a restaurant scrambling to get its shipment of flan. Lightning leaned her head back and closed her eyes just as he started the next story. The news had often lulled her into sleep with its constant rhythm of not-so-recent stories like the one about the restaurant and the flan. She decided she wouldn't mind a few minutes of sleep—she wanted to forget all of her confusion, with work and Marluxia and Serah and the fal'Cie and the Organization.

The news anchor began to talk again. "This just in," he said, "we have footage of a mysterious figure closely resembling the fugitive and Organization member called Marluxia running from troops. He appears to be trying to escape capture. The military has offered no word on the story, since, well, we just obtained the videos less than a half hour ago."

Lightning sat up straight. Her eyes widened as she stared at the TV and the footage on it—the figure in flight was no doubt Marluxia, running for his life while several soldiers chased after him and opened fire. She recognized the street where they'd taken the video. It ran perpendicular to the street her apartment was on. If the news crew had obtained the footage not very long ago, maybe there was still a chance that Marluxia was hiding out there.

She felt a deep ache in her chest as she realized what she was about to do.

She knew she shouldn't. She knew what her sister, what Amodar, what Snow or Serah or anyone else would say. But she couldn't just leave him there to die by the hands of the military.

Swiftly, she stood up and switched the TV off. She lay down the remote and walked to the door, and once she faced it, she turned over her hand and looked at her arm.

On it, Marluxia had scrawled a message in black ink. A number. A Roman numeral.

_XIII._

Lightning squinted at it, confused, before she shook her head and pushed open the door. She dashed out of her apartment and down the stairs. When she reached the streets below, she glanced from side to side to see if she could glimpse any of the action. Sure enough, to her left, a patrol raced down the streets, their guns poised to fire and their backs turned toward Lightning. Pedestrians all around them scattered. Lightning took advantage of the chaos and slid into the fray.

She had to fight her way through the crowds. Everyone moved in the opposite direction in an attempt to flee from the troops. Lightning glanced around, trying to see over their heads, trying to see if they had their target in their sights.

She looked the wrong way just as someone slammed into her from one side.

"Hey, watch where you're—" she began and broke off.

A figure wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head grabbed her by the collar of her jacket and pulled her so close that their faces almost touched. Had she been standing several feet away, she wouldn't have seen his face at all, but at this proximity she had a clear view of his features.

"Lightning," he said. "Long time no see. Let's get out of here."

"That's what I was just about to say to you, Marluxia," she hissed. "Come on, I'm taking you back to my apartment before you get yourself in any more trouble."

His eyes glinted. "That's very kind of you," he replied, "but I'm afraid I've overstayed my welcome. Tonight it's my place."

"But—" Lightning began.

"If you keep quiet, we won't get caught. Trust me. These brutes haven't caught anyone since Number V." He glanced away from her, toward the troops. They continued down the street, oblivious to the chaos breaking loose behind them—oblivious to the fact that their charge hid in plain sight.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lightning said.

"You don't need to know. Maybe I'll explain once we get there," Marluxia said, turning his gaze back to hers. Lightning felt her face warm as their eyes met.

"I-I have to go to work tomorrow. I need to be back here early." She hated that her voice faltered, and struggled to hide the uncertainty in her tone with an unwavering stare.

"Fine," Marluxia said. "I'll… _try_ to get you here by then."

Lightning only stared back at him.

"In the meantime," he continued, "we might as well go. If we continue to stand here, they might catch us after all."

His hand snaked around her forearm, and he dragged her off through the crowd—again.


	5. Chapter Five: Criminal I Am

**Ahh... It's only been like a week but I feel like posting again. So here I am.  
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**Just so you know, the name of this chapter comes from a line from a song: "When I pretend / I can forget about the criminal I am". I thought it was fitting.**

**I don't really know what else to say right now, though, and I doubt you want to listen to me ramble about nothing. Anyway, I'm having fun writing this story, :3 so I hope you're having fun reading it. Signing off for now...**

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><p><span><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

**Criminal I Am**

Lightning and Marluxia ran for a long time. They never stopped to rest; they always kept up, running side by side. They ran through side roads and mazelike streets, hardly ever emerging out onto a main road. When Marluxia finally called out, "Here," Lightning skidded to a stop to find that they stood in a maze of winding back alleys. She didn't see any sign of houses or living areas at all.

"It's this way," Marluxia said, turning a corner. She followed.

He pushed open the door to a large, dark, rectangular building and stepped inside, holding the door open for just a second longer for her. She passed through the door right behind him.

She blinked in an effort to make her eyes adjust to the dim light inside. The only light source in the main room was a fixture over an unsteady-looking wooden desk. Lightning frowned. She hadn't seen architecture this run-down in forever—everywhere she went, she saw metal structures, glass desks, and fluorescent lights.

"Yeah, Eleven?" the man standing behind the desk called out. Lightning could barely even see him through the lack of light. She could tell he wore all black, at least, just like Marluxia.

"Thorns," Marluxia said.

"The higher-ups should know better. The passwords are just getting too easy to remember," the man at the desk commented with a sigh. "I mean—wait, hold on… Who's your girlfriend, Eleven?"

"She's not my girlfriend," Marluxia said smoothly, but he put a hand on the small of Lightning's back and pushed her forward into the light.

"Oh my God," the man at the desk gasped and stepped back. "What the hell you doin', bringing one of their kind in here? Tryin' to get us all killed?" He slammed his hands down on the desk in front of him, causing a resounding bang that made even Lightning flinch. "Don't think I didn't see what you did on the damn news!"

"Calm down," Marluxia replied. "Here."

His hands slid over Lightning's bare arm, holding it up and turning it so that the man could see the inside of her wrist and forearm. The black ink of the number, _XIII_, stood out like dark streaks of blood on her skin.

"What on Pulse?" the man whispered. "What's the meaning of this, Eleven?"

"Lightning," Marluxia whispered in her ear, "show him your brand."

Lightning cast him a strange look. Reluctantly, she unzipped the collar of her jacket and pulled it aside just enough to reveal the edge of the l'Cie brand that marred her chest. The man behind the desk stepped back, his eyes so huge she thought they might pop out of his head.

She zipped up her jacket and Marluxia stepped in front of her almost protectively. "You understand, don't you?" he asked the man behind the desk. "She is one of us, no doubt."

"Sh-she has a l'Cie brand, that's true," the man stammered. "But the Organization's mark? Where's a girl like her get off prancin' around the military with one of those?"

Marluxia smiled. "The ink is temporary."

"What the hell—" Lightning began, but Marluxia reached around her and put his hand on her waist, squeezing hard enough to get his point across. She shut up.

"Why don't you let us in?" Marluxia asked.

"Fine," the man breathed. "But I'm tellin' you, you gotta stop gettin' into trouble. We've already lost almost half of our members. We're hurtin', Eleven."

"Of that I am aware," Marluxia said. He tugged Lightning away from the desk. "Best tell the higher-ups we are on our way."

The two of them strode toward the hallway on the left side of the desk, Marluxia keeping his arm locked around Lightning's hip. The darkness of the hallway felt tangible, like it wanted to close around them, and as soon as Lightning was sure the man at the desk couldn't see them anymore, she jerked out of Marluxia's grip.

"What?" Marluxia asked.

"You're a damn fool," Lightning said. "What _do _you think you're doing? You said we were going to 'your place'. This is… This is some sort of cult headquarters, not your place."

Marluxia raised an eyebrow. "And you actually _wanted_ to see where I live?"

Lightning flushed. "Not what I meant. You know what I—"

"We can go later," Marluxia reassured her with a sarcastic smirk. "Right now I need you to focus."

Lightning paused for a second, letting his comment sink in. She pulled her hand back, shouted, "You bastard!" and slapped him across the face.

Another moment of silence passed before Marluxia recovered and burst into laughter. "I apologize. '_Focus_'… What was I thinking?" he mused as he continued down the dark hallway.

Lightning didn't know how he managed to see anything in this hallway. Maybe he didn't. It was pitch-black, and she had to use the wall to her right to keep her in line. Marluxia had finally taken his hands off her, a fact she at first felt thankful for. But as they walked on, she realized that she had no way of knowing whether he was still there, walking beside her, or if he had, perhaps, deserted her completely.

"Stop," Lightning said, and she heard the scuff of his boots against the wooden floor.

"What is it?" Marluxia asked quietly.

Lightning swallowed and fought away a blush. "Give me your hand," she said, relieved when her voice came out steady.

"All right," Marluxia answered. They couldn't see each other's hands in the thick blackness, and his hand moved too far at first, brushing her hip before retreating back to her fingers.

"Okay." Lightning took a deep breath. "Go."

They continued to walk. After several minutes, they came to a door at the end of the hallway. Streaks of light slipped through the cracks, illuminating the walls around them slightly. The light looked soft, not harsh and fluorescent like the light she was used to seeing at the base where she worked. It reached out and touched the edges of Marluxia's profile, giving his face a set and determined look.

A voice drifted through the cracked door. "You see this, right? You've seen all of it. It just doesn't make any sense to me. Either he's trying to _die,_ or he's trying to get us all found out!"

Marluxia's expression hardened, and he reached for the doorknob. Lightning's hand drifted forward to touch his shoulder and she prepared to ask him what was going on.

"They're talking about me," he hissed.

"Figured as much," Lightning answered under her breath. "So you've got not only the military, but also your own alliances out for you?"

Another voice inside interrupted their hushed conversation. "I think he has his own motives for doing what he does."

"Like what?" the other voice snapped. "His crush on that pink-haired girl he stole from the Guardian Corps?"

A pause took over, filling both the room and the hallway with an overwhelming silence. Finally the calmer voice answered, "No, that's not what I mean. Think of my brother."

"Your _brother,_" the second voice sneered. "Oh, your brother! Why does it always have to come back to this, Xemnas?"

Marluxia shook his head and ran one hand through his hair. In one sudden motion, he threw open the door and stepped into the room, growling, "Did I miss something?"

The two men standing in the room, near a black ebony table, whipped around to stare at him. They both wore outfits of all black and had long hair, Lightning noticed, but one of them had silver hair, and the other had blue. The blue-haired man, whose voice was the more irritated one they had heard out in the hall, spoke first.

"No. You didn't miss anything at all. I swear, it's the same things every single time with this guy," the blue-haired man said, throwing his hands up.

"Eleven," the man with silver hair interrupted, tilting his head to one side almost curiously, "who is that?"

"Oh," Marluxia said, turning and catching Lightning's eye for a split second. "This is…"

"Lightning," she interrupted. "Who are you, and what is this place?"

"She's direct," the blue-haired man muttered under his breath.

"We are members of the infamous rebel l'Cie group called the Organization," the silver-haired man explained. "I am Number One, and that is Number Seven." He indicated the blue-haired man standing next to him.

"I don't suppose you want us to introduce you to that one," Number Seven remarked, jerking a thumb at Marluxia. "You two already seem… _familiar_. If you know what I mean."

"Why do you identify by numbers?" Lightning demanded. "What are your real names? What do I call you?"

"We don't trust you," Number Seven snapped. "We can't just give out our real names. That would be suicide."

"Our question is," Number One added, "who are _you_?"

Lightning frowned. Hadn't she just told them her name? Hadn't she just come in with one of their members? She didn't see how they could justify asking her again.

"Well, for starters," Marluxia said.

"No one asked you," Lightning snapped.

He ignored her. "Her l'Cie brand is on her chest."

"They didn't ask about my l'Cie brand."

"And also…" He crossed the room in a few steps and grabbed her by the arm, which he held up so that the two other men could see. It felt as though the light burned across her pale skin, creating an even darker contrast between it and the marks Marluxia had made with the ink.

"_How _did she get the mark of the Organization?!" Number Seven demanded, slamming his hand down on the table next to him. "She works for the military! What blasphemy is this?"

Marluxia stared him down. "_I _gave her the mark, Saïx."

Number Seven—Saïx—threw his hands in the air. "Oh, now you've gone and done it. Wait until I get my hands on you, Eleven…"

Number One cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but Marluxia and I need to talk," he barked. Saïx fell silent. The silver-haired man turned, crossed the room, and muttered something to him just before he and Marluxia disappeared completely.

"So, I was told to inform you of the Organization's intentions," Saïx said. "Since you have already heard, I might as well confirm that my real name is Saïx."

"Why do you have numbers?" Lightning asked again. "Seems a little… dehumanizing."

"You think anyone would willingly look at a l'Cie as a human anyway?" Saïx snapped. "Our numbers are how the public knows us. They are also a form of… seniority in the Organization. The higher your number, the fewer people you take orders from, and the more powerful you are." A smirk crept across his face. "Marluxia seems to think that you are the second coming of Number XIII."

"Second coming?" Lightning asked, raising an eyebrow. "Was there a first?"

"Yes," Saïx told her. "A young boy. About fifteen. He didn't last." He shrugged.

Lightning frowned. "So, your intentions," she prompted.

"Of course," Saïx answered. "We are l'Cie. We do not wish to be treated like prisoners, nor fugitives. We can wield magic. We have power, and we deserve respect. We exhibit our power wherever we can. The Organization hopes to someday overthrow the military and force the people to show l'Cie real respect."

Lightning shook her head. "L'Cie don't deserve respect," she refuted. "We're monsters."

"That's what the military wants you to think," Saïx told her. "That's why we came together. We want to upend those stereotypes… those fears."

"Through terrorism?" Lightning snorted. "_That _makes sense."

"It is not terrorism." Saïx stared back at her. "Do you know what you and Marluxia did just days ago? You saved innocent citizens from being killed by a huge military machine. That was not terrorism. Rather, that was a demonstration of power."

"And what do you think the military had to say about that?" Lightning answered. "What's this about? You want me to join you? You're _criminals._ I've seen what you've done, don't get me wrong. Blowing things up, attacking civilians, escaping capture every time—"

"That's right," One's voice said behind her. She spun around to see him reemerging from the doorway. "We're criminals. But do you know why we're criminals?"

Lightning only glared at him in response.

"We're criminals simply because we _exist_," One continued. "Being a l'Cie is a terrible crime."

"Of course," Saïx added with a devious smirk, "that makes you a criminal too."


End file.
